


Two Kinds of Screams

by bamby0304



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Knifeplay, Sex, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 23:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16842868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamby0304/pseuds/bamby0304
Summary: Daryl Dixon and you have always been at each other’s throats. But when he comes to see you one night, after a particularly hurtful argument, your surprised by how the night ends…





	Two Kinds of Screams

**_Warnings_ : Smut, explicit language, a little bit of knife play if you squint, violence, spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen up to season 6.**

**Bamby**

You let out a frustrated scream. Standing in front of you was the one person who- without fall- got under your skin. Even now that the world was ending nothing irked you more than Daryl Dixon.

This wasn’t the first time you and Daryl had argued. It probably wouldn’t be the last either. He was just so irritating and annoying. Sometimes you honestly hated him.

Rick had called a meeting in the armoury to discuss the coming mission where you and several other people- including Daryl- were going to try and lead a _huge_ herd of walkers away from Alexandria. Some suggestions were thrown around the room, so you decided to put your two cents in. But Daryl was right there, shutting you down in an instant. That’s when things blew up.

He made it clear that he felt you going out on the run was a stupid idea. According to him, you weren’t cut out for the job. But that was ridiculous.

Since the world had ended you’d had to step up. With everything changing around you, it only made sense that you changed as well. So, over the years you’d grown into a strong, dependable and capable survivor.

When Rick and his people found you on their way to Fort Benning you quickly become one of Rick’s go to people. Whether you were needed to watch Carl, go get supplies with Glenn, or hunt with Daryl, you could do it. Over time you even learnt how to shoot and fight, and before long you’d killed your first person- which was a memory you still tried to suppress.

Daryl of course didn’t seem to care about any of this. It didn’t matter how hard you tried to prove yourself, he never saw you as anything other than dead weight.

“Every time you open your Goddamn mouth I wish you’d just shut the fuck up, Dixon. You are the biggest asshole I have _ever_ met.” You spat, breathing heavily as you raged at the man before you.

“You ain’t goin’!” He snapped at you for the millionth time. “Ain’t letting you go out there. All you’re gonna do is screw somethin’ up and get yourself killed.”

Heat rested on your cheeks as your fury sat close to the surface, waiting to be set free. “What in the world makes you think I’ll screw up?! I have done nothing but work my ass off to keep these people safe. I’ve literally been shot, stabbed, I even fucking died!” You reminded him, silently sending thanks to the Hershel for saving your life that day. “What more do I have to do to show you that I am not some hopeless damsel in distress.”

“Ain’t nothin’ gonna prove it.” He looked you up and down with scrutiny. “You’re always getting’ in the way. Always makin’ stupid mistakes.”

“What mistakes-”

Before you could finish, he cut you off with one word. “Beth.”

The name of your late best friend was worse than any bullet or blade piercing your skin.

After the prison had fallen you’d made it out with Daryl and Beth. Eventually you’d found a funeral home. The three of you holed up there for a while. But that didn’t last very long.

Walkers came. You had no choice but to run off with Beth while Daryl fended the dead off. You would have stayed and helped, but Beth was hurt and weak and she needed you. That’s when the two of you were taken by the Grady police.

The rest of the story left a wound in your heart that would never heal, but to get to the point… Beth had died, and it was all your fault.

“How dare you.” Shaking your head at Daryl, you looked up at him as pained and angered tears threatened to spill over. “I _hate_ you Daryl Dixon!”

Spinning on your heels, you marched down the road, ignoring the eyes of the people who’d stepped out onto their porches to watch you and the redneck participate in yet another screaming match. You didn’t give a single glance to any of them. Instead, you simply stormed off, heading for your lonely apartment which was conveniently located on the opposite side of the community, away from where Daryl lived.

* * *

The sound of your pulse thrumming in your ears drowned out everything else. All you could do was focus on the hard pounding of your heart in your chest. The force was so strong you wondered if it could break your ribs.

Fighting was something you and Daryl had done since the day you met.

You knew you hadn’t started it. In fact, you’d been attracted to Daryl at first. Seeing him wielding his crossbow and look through the woods for Sophia with persistence and skill… it had left your heart racing in a different way than it was now.

But all of that was gone the second he opened his mouth to talk to you. It was like the second he laid eyes on you he was determined to make your life worse than it already was.

Groaning, you threw your door open the moment you reached your apartment. Without missing a beat, you slammed the door shut before heading over to the liquor cabinet in your living room.

Alcohol was a tricky thing to come by these days, so you’d usually scold yourself for even thinking about pouring yourself a drink. But tonight? Tonight, you needed it.

Once you’d poured some of the dark liquid into a crystal glass, you grabbed the bottle and glass, and headed over to the couch, wanting nothing more than to sit in the dark and drown out the memories your argument with Daryl had brought to light. You’d barely been sitting there- with your legs stretched out along the sofa- for two minutes before someone’s fist banged on your front door with three loud and firm knocks.

Sighing, you reluctantly pulled yourself to your feet and headed for the door. On your way, you took a few guesses as to who was on the other side of the door as you sipped on your drink.

Your first guess was Rick. He was always so concerned about you. It was a fatherly concern which warmed your heart. Whenever you and Daryl fought, he felt the need to make sure you were okay. As nice as it was to feel cared for, at that moment you really weren’t in the mood.

Tara was your second guess. As your friend, she was always worried that one day either you or Daryl would finally snap, and one of you would kill the other. But she also joked that the fighting was a side effect of pent up sexual frustration… which is exactly why you were hoping it wasn’t her.

Your third and final guess was Carol. The two of you had been weak and simple women before. But with the help and support of each other, you’d both turned into strong and valuable members of your group. If anyone was on the other side of the door, you hoped it was her. You also hoped she’d have a tray of the freshly baked cookies she’d promised to make for you.

Reaching the door, you grabbed the handle with your free hand and pulled it open, only to freeze on the spot. Standing in front of you was the last person you’d ever expect.

It took barely a second to recover before you threw Daryl a deathly glare. “What the hell do _you_ want?”

He stayed silent, standing there, eyes falling to the crystal glass in your hand. A frown grew on his brow as he eyed the dark alcoholic liquid. “You drinkin’ now?”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head at him. “If I want a drink I’ll have a fucking drink. You’re not my keeper Daryl. Now get the hell off my porch.” Still holding the door, you went to slam it in his face.

Before the door closed he quickly grabbed it, forcing it open as he pushed into the house.

Eyes wide, you backed up, shocked into silence. Daryl and you may have fought before, but never had he been so forceful. Never had he pushed himself into your space…

Of course, you didn’t want him to see the fear tingling in your spine, so you straightened up and stared him right in the eyes, glare back in place. “What are you doing, Dixon?”

“Makin’ sure you don’t do somethin’ stupid.” He grumbled as he stepped even closer, before snatching the glass out of your hand.

Your jaw dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me? Get. Out!”

“No.”

“Daryl, do not make me make you.” You warned him.

He simply scoffed. “Like to see you try.”

_You asked for it, asshole._

Moving quickly, you kicked out at his chest, sending him back. Taken by surprise, he stumbled until he collided with the doorway of the living room- surprisingly, he didn’t drop your glass.

Unable to keep from grinning, you stayed where you were, looking him up and down. “You sure you wanna test me, Dixon?”

You’d honestly thought he’d give in and leave… but he didn’t.

Adjusting his hold on the glass in his hand, he brought it to his lips and downed the rest of your drink, watching you the whole time.

Jaw dropping again, you glared at the last drop rolled past his lips. “You’re gonna regret that, asshole.”

Taking the glass away from his lips, he watched you as a smirk tugged onto his lips. “You’re all talk, sunshine.”

You were both pretty evenly matched, you’d known that the second you threatened to kick him out. But his cockiness and refusal to leave had shifted your anger into gear. Now, you were blind to the truth. All you knew was that you had to prove him wrong and kick his ass.

Both of you moved at the same time. As you lunged for Daryl he threw the glass across the room. At the sound of the crystal smashing you both collided into each other, throwing punches left, right and center.

Most of the attacks were dodged, but you knew you’d wake up sore- and even bruised- tomorrow morning. None of that mattered though. The adrenaline pumping through your veins didn’t care about possible injuries. All that mattered was winning.

Using your speed as an advantage, you clocked Daryl right in the jaw, causing his head to turn away. Before he could recover, you dropped to the ground and kicked out, tripping him up.

The moment he landed on the ground, you were on him, hands around his throat- without squeezing.

“I win. Now, get out.” You told him, unable to keep yourself from grinning once more.

Grabbing your arms quickly, he flipped the two of you so he was on top, his body pressing against yours to keep you from moving. “No.”

Neither of you moved- though you couldn’t even if you wanted to. Looking up at Daryl, you could see the dark, lusted gaze in his eyes as they roamed your sweat slick skin. With his body pressing against you as much as it was, you could feel the hard bludge in his pants pressing against your lower stomach.

Without realising what you were doing, you rolled your hips against his.

Daryl pulled back a little, taken by surprise. But when you rolled against him again, your teeth tugging on your lip, you both knew what was going to come next.

Tightening his grip on your writs as he held them above your head, Daryl crashed his lips onto yours in a rough and hungry kiss. Teeth clashed together, wet tongues sliding along each other as the kiss fed fuel to the fire burning between the two of you.

Both your hips moved, rubbing and pressing together, trying to find whatever friction you could. The desire burning in your veins cried for the feel of his flesh on yours. His warm, sweaty, rough flesh.

Groaning, you pulled your wrists from his grasp and flipped him over so you were on top. Grabbing his shirt, you ripped it open, pulling some buttons off as you did. He reached for his belt and pulled out his knife, using it to cut your tank top, too impatient to pull the clothing over your head. Then, without hesitation, he tore apart your bra.

“Hey!” Your hand wrapped around his wrist and pushed it to the ground so he couldn’t cut anymore of your clothing. “It’s the end of the world, bras are hard to come by.” You glared.

Grunting as he rubbed against you, his grin slipped into place. “You won’t be wearin’ them ever again if I get my way.”

The idea that this wasn’t just a one-time thing for him, that the prospect of more was something he wasn’t dismissing, turned you on. You’d wanted him the moment you met him, you’d just been pushing that want down. But now? Now that you’d had a taste there was no way you’d be able to control the insatiable animal inside you.

Reaching for his pants, you quickly unbuttoned and undid the zip before hastily pulling the offending denim down his legs. He moved to help you get rid of them, kicking off his shoes at the same time. Then he was on you.

His hand slipped down your body and worked on your own jeans as his lips pressed against yours again. You withered and squirmed, feeling the heat in your core crying out for more.

As soon as the two of you were bare, he pushed into you. There was no need for foreplay, the arguing and fighting had left him as hard as stone, and you as wet as the ocean.

Moving erratically, Daryl pushed in and out of you with no rhythm. But you didn’t care. If he continued to slam into you hard and fast, you’d be happy.

Letting out a groan, your hands pulled at his hair. His lips fell to your shoulder where he sucked and bit at the skin, marking you. Hands grasping your thighs and hips, he held you so tightly you were sure you’d find bruises where his hands had been.

The sounds of the two of you moaning, groaning and grunting filled the room. Between the short silences you could hear your bodies slapping together, your juices squelching against him.

A coil was building inside you. It wouldn’t take long before you’d reach your climax.

Daryl must have been able to tell, because right as you got closer to the edge, he adjusted himself so he hit a spot inside you that made little white spots appear before you. He also slipped his hand down to press and rub against your clit as his lips latched themselves onto your nipple where he sucked and bit at the sensitive bud.

You let out a loud scream that would surely leave your voice hoarse later. But right now, all you cared about was the flooding pleasure overtaking your senses as Daryl continued to draw out your orgasm until you passed out from the intensity of your climax, and everything that was Daryl.

**Bamby**


End file.
